#best pain medication

[turtleblogatlast]

Headcanon that Leo really loved to give his family massages growing up. We know that he’s good at them from the episode “You Got Served” and we know he likes spas and relaxation and getting massages himself from when he tried to get these in “Bad Hair Day” and from when Donnie made a tennis ball massage machine in “Smart Lair.”

So I think it’d be cute to think that maybe one day Leo overheard Splinter complaining about a bad back and immediately Leo thinks back to a comic or movie or something he saw where a massage helped so he offers to give one and it actually ends up helping Splinter.

Then April swings by the Lair at a later time and mentions her back hurting because of her backpack from school and Leo’s all like “I gotcha!”

From there, he occasionally manages to convince Donnie to sit for one because Donnie’s shrimp posture does not help him any (Leo pokes fun at how sandpaper-y Donnie’s shell is despite knowing it’s always like that and Donnie smacks him for it.) Donnie usually prefers hand massages instead however as all his typing and inventing adds up over time, and shoulder massages too once he starts wearing his battle shells more. Leo also figures out how to give massages to Raph and Mikey’s shells as well, though it’s a struggle at first to not scratch his hands on Raph’s spikes.

I think since Leo has such bad luck with spas and the like, he tries giving himself massages (though it’s not as helpful.) Like, with how his abilities work his legs are probably always aching from his portal jumping and one foot landings, so maybe he branches past back massages out of a need to help his own aches too. (Though he really wants a shell massage himself, the same way he’d give them…the one time with Donnie’s tennis ball massage machine was but a short moment of what Leo’s been missing out on and what he’ll continue missing out on…)

I don’t know, I just think it’d be cute to think Leo could have honed his massaging skill this way in order to help out his family (and also partially because he wants a massage himself.)

[stealingyourbones]

Why must the medication give me other mental health issues. I trade the Big Sad for the No Sleep and it gives me more Big Sad

[bamsara]

Listen. I JUST had a kidney stone and it was worse than period cramps my dude person. My fellow human. Please please please pleeeeease. Drink straight water too. I do not wish that pain on ANYONE. Ever. It landed me sweaty, in ER, silently screaming and twisting in the bed, and hyperventilating. Like BamSara, please, be be be careful. I never hit a lvl 10 pain scale and I genuinely thought I was going to croak. I don’t wish that kind of PAIN on even my worst enemy. For real.

And I have health insurance but my bill was 2,300-ish $$

I’ve cut back on coffee and Dr Pepper… I’m also 32 so I dunno if age factors into that

I have both great and terrible news: I have already had kidney stones slkdhglksdhgsd

I had 8 of them, and one of them got stuck in the tract for a while. I thought it was P Cramps too and since it was late at night/early in the morning I decided to see if I could wait it out (plus also hospital is expensive) and so I ended up doubled on the floor, curled up and sobbing in pain near some of my own vomit completely unable to move

Finally went to the ER after 6 hours of agony and they were like 'why didnt you come earlier' and 'welp theres nothing we can really do outside of manage the damage and give you some strong painkillers and morphine'

But yeah anyone who's reading this don't be like me, kidney stones are very painful. Still drinking this cup tho

[rottoons]

needed to draw down this very self indulgent "mercs work with dogs professionally and arent in an endless fucked up war" au

spy owns a black standard poodle and they compete in dog shows. but on the other hand she is both an award winning dog-show-er(???) and also #1 absent father. then scout is like there too competing in the adjacent interest of dog agility shows with his little jack russell. anyway thats where their story ends bc im not creative but i am trying to decide what to do with the other mercs so if u have any ideas LEAVE THEM DOWN IN THE COMMENTS, SMASH THAT LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE BUTTON, PLUS THAT LITTLE BELL ICON FOR DAILY UPDATES AND THANK YOU FOR RAID SHADOW LEGENDS FOR SPO-[EXPLOSIONS]

[savage-rhi]

I have a doctor's appointment coming up that's going to cost $339 out of pocket after insurance.

I have crochet scarves and a shawl/scarf I'm selling to try to put a dent in the price. They're comfortable and made with love.

Each one costs $50.00 + shipping (tb calculated).

**At this time, I can't ship outside the US. The shipping fee may be waived for folks in the states depending on location.

**I don't mind commissions. If you want something in particular, let's talk.

**I charge based on material costs and my time. My time is valuable most of all cause I'm disabled.

**Please message me if you'd like to purchase one

Thanks for looking 💙

[good-beanswrites]

If it's okay with you, could you write a drabble about the hypothetical aftermath of Amane getting attacked by Kotoko?

Welp thank you pal for making me absolutely insane with this request 👍 I ran through a few hypotheticals and realized I had to shift some things around since there were so many absolutely tragic outcomes. I worked something out but damn if it didn’t make me emotional to think about how uniquely rough Amane has it. Even making sure she's in a good place at the end, this got pretty serious, so warnings for child abuse and cult references. 

(So in canon, Kotoko goes in order and attacks Fuuta, but Kazui steps in. Then she attacks Mahiru while he’s distracted with his injuries. She’s about to attack Amane, but Mikoto gets in the way (my hc that he did it on purpose survives!). By the time they reach a draw, Kazui is back, and the two of them can prevent Kotoko from any further action against Amane. Sticking to this apparent system of three attacks and one rescue, I’m just shuffling around the injuries for this story. Fuuta’s attack went unnoticed, and he’s in the same state as canon Mahiru. Mikoto steps in before Kotoko can fight Mahiru, so Mappi’s the one who get out physically unscathed. While Mikoto checks on Mahiru, recovers himself, or discovers Fuuta, Kotoko is able to attack Amane next. Kazui comes to help, but not before she leaves Amane looking like canon Fuuta.)

Mahiru could practically feel her heart shatter into a million pieces when Amane finally cried in front of her. She hadn’t shed a single tear yesterday – it was the shock, Shidou said. Mahiru was skeptical. After all, she had been shocked, too, and cried plenty.

Amane woke as she came in with breakfast. She took a moment to survey herself, bandages peeking out from beneath her pajamas and an eyepatch securely over her right eye. As calmly as one might say “good morning,” she started to cry. Mahiru might have missed it, if Amane hadn’t wiped at her good eye with her sleeve.

“Oh, sweetheart…!” Mahiru rushed over to her. “It’s okay, I’m here.” She wanted nothing more than to wrap the girl in a secure embrace, but she remembered the mass of bandages that were around her chest. Shidou had mentioned broken ribs and bruises. It took everything in her not to cry along with Amane, at the thought.

“I can get you another ice pack, if you need. Or more medicine.” Her mind spun with ways to help with pain. Many of the first aid supplies had been used to keep Fuuta from the brink of death, but surely there were extras to spare for Amane. 

The girl just shook her head. 

She muttered, “I can’t… I…I’m going to be punished, I’m going to be punished…”

“No! You’re safe now.” Mahiru placed her hands gently on Amane’s arms. “Kotoko’s not coming back. We’re all watching over you. You’re safe. She’s not going to hurt you anymore.” 

“That’s not…” Amane pulled away. Her voice stayed level, despite hiccups interrupting her. A hand reached up to her eyepatch. “It’s this. It’s all of this. It’s sinful. I took it off last night, but he must have…” She started unwrapping it. “They’re going to punish me...” 

With a careful motion, Mahiru held it in place and took Amane’s hands into her own. She’d been picking up on the signs ever since they arrived here together, and a final wave of understanding washed over her. 

“I can’t let you do that.”

Amane’s expression twisted, though words came out far more frantic than fiery. “Let me go.” 

Mahiru didn’t. “I’m sorry. Amane, you need this treatment.”

“That is not your decision to make. That is not any human’s decision to make.”

Mahiru pressed her lips together. “I know. But I can’t watch as you… I can’t sit by again while someone…” She was careful not to apply any pressure, but she could no longer fight the urge to gather Amane up in her arms. “You don’t need to be afraid of those people, anymore.”

“I’m not afraid.” Amane hiccuped. “They love me, and I love them. I need to be good for them.”

“I love you, and I don’t want to see you in pain.”

“You just pity me because I’m young.”

“Why does your age matter? You are a lovely young woman – you are my friend – and I can’t bear to see you in pain.”

The two sat in silence for a moment. Mahiru doubted she would take that as an answer; Amane had refused to call any of the others her friend. At least she didn’t argue. In fact, it seemed she was leaning into the embrace a bit more. She sighed a shaky breath into Mahiru’s uniform.

“Listen, Amane. Can you do me a favor? I’m trying to be a good girl, too. To make up for something awful, I need to make sure you’re alright. Can you help me? Can we be good together?”

A long pause followed. Amane’s voice spoke up, ever so gently.

“I suppose I can consider it.” She added quickly, “for the sake of your redemption. Of course.”

“Of course.”

[yurious-george]

4'33'', by John Cage, is commonly remembered as 4 and a half minutes of silence. But contrary to popular belief, the song is not actually meant to be the sound of silence, but the sound of quiet. Ambient noises contribute to - and consist of - the performance. True silence does not exist. If one tilts their head right, the whole world sings. and, with that said, a playlist.

yeah, this one's a doozy. hi, cubewatermelon and co. miss me?

rhetorical question. don't answer that.

A few nitty-gritty things out of the way, first. this is specifically intended for the 2018 mod team for the sleepless domain fans discord server, primarily cubewatermelon/mary cagle. Folks who knew me are welcome to look on, but I'm not going to do much to catch people up to speed. hi, everyone! hope you're well!

I also might be a bit disjointed or biased in my recollection. For reasons that will be made clear extremely soon, I can't put my childhood on a linear timeline. I can only express myself, and hope I don't mess it up horribly this time.

Noooowww to the big stuff. re: stalking; i genuinely didn't mean to stalk anyone, and when they told me to back off, i backed off. I am not willing to discuss this further. not being able to conceptualize other people's emotions or the consequences of my actions has caused some problems for me

that's an autism thing btw. im autistic i dont think i told anyone that

And now, the special guest you've all been waiting for: a big round of applause for the elephant in the room! In accordance with the WMA Declaration of Tokyo, the deliberate overprescription of psychotropic medication is a form of pharmacological torture. Most victims of pharmacological torture and experimentation are children, because it is nigh-impossible to sue for brain damage when there is no fully-formed adult brain for comparison prior to the abuse.

Torture is a strong word, but I don't have another word to use. psychiatric abuse usually describes mistreatment in psychiatric wards; pharmacological abuse describes a patient who takes advantage of a prescription; medical abuse is when a doctor (usually physically) abuses their patient. Being able to understand what happened to you is a form of agency, and I don't even have the words. I identify as a torture victim; this may change.

This high dose was precedented and legal, but the vaginal stretching of intersex infants is also legal. much involuntary psychiatric & psychotropic treatment (such as restraints and solitary confinement) are legal, and child marriage is legal. abuse is not abnormal: it is profoundly normal. Because something is normal, legal, and precedented does not prevent it from being torture.

and when your mother hands you a poison apple and says "here, eat this; it will be good for you; i hope someday you'll forgive me" you have to eat it, because you are eight years old and you don't get to argue with your mother. despite all this, I don't blame my aunt for refilling the high dose. when I said the dose was hurting me, she listened. (thank you, auntie. i wouldn't have gotten out without you.)

And this brings us to you. oh, you four. (five? i forget myself!)

I'd like to establish some context. I was used to things getting taken from me. friend groups in particular: I didn't expect to keep any friends, because I constantly expected to have to pack up and move on. I moved a lot in my childhood, and in Africa, i was constantly told that at some undetermined point in the near future, i'd have to go back to the states. living with my aunt was a temporary thing, i was expected to eventually move back in with my parents at some undetermined point in the future. I relied heavily on online friends because they were people I could have anywhere, so online communities were my only lifeline - not to mention, i was basically in solitary confinement while in Kenya.

Most of all, I was terrified of my mental health/actions being exposed, examined, found lacking, and ultimately excluded. (this is why i was so afraid of psychiatric wards.) When you decided something had to be done about me - cutting me off from the server so i had to speak with you - It was either comply with your demands to communicate (which I could not, and did not understand why) or lose the community. I was so, so afraid of you i wanted to die when you all confronted me, and of course i couldn't say that, because only manipulative people would say "your attempt to solve this problem makes me want to seriously hurt myself."

But then I got called manipulative anyway <3 yay <3

Seriously: I wasn't trying to manipulate anyone, and i have no idea how you can manipulate someone without intention. (ah, that felt good to say!) Between medication spellbinding, alexithymia, and prior abuse, all my thoughts were so disordered i genuinely couldn't explain myself most of the time. Looking back, I have no childhood memory where I was fully lucid. I leaned into a manic persona because it was the only way I had any agency at all. I was something beyond both reason and self-recognition, and I willingly tried to brute-force my way through an extreme trauma response to please you. And you still hit me with my worst nightmare. that's why i was mad at you lol

I was so, so afraid, all the time, and I didn't even have the tools to understand I was afraid. How could someone as confident and impulsive as me be so fearful all the time? Was that manic persona freedom? Or was it a longer leash?

(Forgive my impulse toward rhetoric. I shouldn't ask questions you can't answer.)

I also couldn't say how badly i was hurting, because that would be venting, but you also accused me of venting when I was just talking about my day? or what was on my mind? I didn't understand that very well. autism moment, don't bother explaining it now. I also couldn't burden people with my actual mental health problems, because making strangers deal with that would be toxic! I resent you for setting up a system where it seemed safest not to speak and then punishing me for my inability to communicate. I resent every system that set me up for failure and punished me for failing, including yours.

And yet - I know that was not your intent! I can see in retrospect how hard you tried to be kind using the tools you had. The people with power over me, who genuinely did not want to do me harm and gave me multiple second chances, still upheld and facilitated the systems that tortured me; a miniature parody of the psychiatric system. (talk therapy and communication are useless if you struggle with self-awareness.) The same is true for the source: No person in my psychiatric treatment wanted me to suffer, and yet, here I am: a torture victim without a torturer. (except my parents, sort of.)

The logical conclusion, then: the system only intends to heal those who are already compliant, or prioritize compliance. The rest of us are treated to induce compliance, and if we still cannot, we are sequestered away. My medicine made me sick, and my prescribers made money off of keeping me sick - off of my torture. This is not a conspiracy: it is my lived experience.

However, even if i could communicate perfectly, we still would have had massive communication issues. Like - you know that one page where ben and steffi talk about dating, and ben says he thought steffi was gay? and steffi gets super defensive and it escalates into a screaming fight? I found that offensive, because a character getting that offput by the concept of not liking men (or a man) is kind of lesbophobic! But I understood that it would be a pain to redraw/write the page so they they fight about something else, don't fight, or some other solution, so i didn't need it to be fixed - just wanted to point out that was a reasonable interpretation, and one to be aware of in the future. but somehow my concerns got interpreted as a phrasing issue…? like, Ms. Cagle rewrote the page to say "weren't into guys" instead of "gay"..? You were very polite about it, Ms! But I found this interaction so baffling I didn't even try to correct it. that… wasn't what i said…

frankly we should bring back mildly homophobic steffi. twas narratively appropriate (<- different essay for a different time)

but yeah the whole communication operation was doomed from the start. rip!

The issue was always my inability to communicate, but my meds made it nigh-impossible to understand what I was feeling, and when I did, expressing myself could get me institutionalized. My suffering was inevitable but always, somehow, my fault. Awesome! *disintegrates into a pile of sand*

I cannot deny I was a girl like a box of matches waiting to be struck. You had no choice but to do as you did. But is it really what you ought to have done? (On this, I have no answer. I hope you have one that satisfies you.)

(that was genuine, by the by. i've spent a lot of time pondering this mess, and I still haven't found the "right" answer. I don't think there is one - though action or inaction, there is no version of this story where I don't suffer. I can only hope it was worth it. wait, hold on *adds the omelas child to my Kin List*)

Nor can I deny making my previous open letter in a small attempt to 'get back' at you - i'm not above that. lord knows i'm not innocent. but i really was trying to channel that rage into something productive. unfortunately i was doomed to fail because i didn't know what i meant. if you showed me that letter now, you'd hear a lot of "what? I don't know why I said that" "i have no idea why i would complain about something so minor" etc. You can disregard all that. This is what I was trying to say. the obsession, the trauma, the projection: all of it. So much of my obsession was talking around an issue i couldn't identify.

(meguka image) I know now

I knew I would be traumatized by this whole situation. I saw it coming and i could do nothing to stop it. But Gear was crucial to deciphering all this - in fact, suddenly thinking about her last year prompted me to really dissect my medical situation and realize i was tortured. I couldn't have done it without her. cassie & maggie, against the world.

Gear scans surprisingly well as a victim of long-term torture, actually. I don't think you meant to do that but good job!

speaking of her - i still don't think she's consistently suicidal. she's a real cockroach of a character, and I love her for it! But sometimes, i want to die and i want to live mean the same thing, because they both mean i need to get out of here. Imo, her thought processes and desires frequently contradict themselves, like mine did. and making your favs kill themselves in increasingly gruesome ways is really fun catharsis!

But please don't take this to mean I consider myself - or Gear - blameless. I love her because she's not blameless, because she's cruel for fun, because she'd rather be wicked than helpless. Like knows like. What I mean to say is, as of 2018, there is a black space between little Margret and Gear, and I saw all the signs of something very, very bad happening in that space. I know because I shared that space. what I mean to say is, teenage girls don't go out of their minds over nothing. Everything I made here is just an expression of what I heard in the narrative's silences.

and thus my biggest apprehension around revisiting the comic. knowing the author and I have such fundamentally different experiences with mental health - what if the signs of torture i picked up on weren't intended, or i completely made them up? what if, in the parts i haven't read yet, there's information that uproots my entire interpretation, or berates her for refusing mental health services that hurt me profoundly? how do you reconcile that a character so crucial to deciphering yourself may not be anything like you at all? I Don't Know. Shitpost, probably

You're welcome to share those shitposts and whatnot by the way. Creating this let me put down years of hurt, and i hope it relieves you, too. I don't need to go back on the server, or forgiveness, or anything besides understanding. consider this a peace offering. the terms are yours.

Despite writing nearly 10k words, I still probably missed something or was callous or whatever. Self-expression and self-understanding are… new to me. My apology may be understated, but please take it as I meant it, with utmost sincerity. My askbox is open, and I'm more than happy to discuss antipsych resources, KB, What The Hell Is Wrong With Gear, artistic choices made in this comic, etc. I'm even down to reconnect on discord! Maybe. Uh, I'm conflicted. I reserve my right to not want to talk, be slow in responding, and so on, as should you. we've no obligations and all the time in the world. Let neither of us hurt ourselves in meeting because it's the "right" thing to do. I'm not blaming anyone or trying to start drama. If it would give you the most peace of mind to completely ignore this, please do so.

or, translated: as of right now, I'm not ready for any information about KB after steffi reunites with her dad, or difficult emotional reunions. I would really like to hear from everyone, and I'd appreciate casual well-wishes. I don't want things to be the same, I want them to be peaceful. Baby steps, cassie, baby steps. (very large and fearful prey animal tries not to run into oncoming traffic)

mostly, making this was for me. Perhaps I've said too much, but after spending so long unable to express myself freely, my art was cathartic and necessary. I'm no one's martyr or innocent, I'm just a torture victim trying to make sense of it all. I want to articulate some thoughts I couldn't figure out how to say before and make some silly things that make people laugh. Most of all, I'm happy in ways I never thought I could be, and I would like to share that joy with old acquaintances and other fans of a story I adored.

What I mean to say is: The train's about to leave the station, and there's an empty seat beside me. The train will still leave whether or not you board; but I would be honored not to go it alone!

Thank you to everyone who stuck by me even after the drama. Ethel, Felipe, Chris - even though we've fallen out of contact, your kindness and patience meant more than i can say. special thank you to @stars-in-a-jam-jar, the first person i confessed everything to after the smoke cleared, and someone i consider myself close with no matter how long we fall out of contact. My close online friends, @shafpanda, @theoandmoon, @dvanaestmrva, my honorary cousin @my-name-is-jimmy, and everyone else I confided in about my torture. and, of course, my partners @transloo and @teenyjellyfishy, and my little sibling, @aroacenezhaanddainsleif, the three people I love most in the world. Thank you, all. it is an honor to love you, and be loved by you.

[astramachina]

being on testosterone while inhabiting a body that's falling apart, including a disease that went undiagnosed for twenty years and has rendered my insides permanently scarred to the point that i will never be able to live a pain free life, drives me fucking insane. because said disease is hardly studied in cis women, doctor are just left flustered and twiddling their thumbs when my ass entered the chat.

"testosterone should slow the progression" cool, then why am i getting flare-ups that increase in frequency and severity. "uuuuuuh a full removal will probably do the trick but honestly we tend to leave a chunk in to help regulate women's bodies so we have no fucking idea whether or not we should go ahead and do something similar to you so you should talk to your doctor--" idk how to tell you but YOU ARE MY DOCTOR.

i'm tired, scoob. yeah the pelvic pain/lower back pain sucks ass to the point where i have to walk hunched over, but even that pales to the anxiety of having my abdomen and chest be in pain. just. christ.

[flintandpyrite]

My house is still falling apart and I really really need to clean the bathroom tomorrow but at least we managed to go for a roll along the beach boardwalk for a couple of miles this morning. Frankie hates the way he gets stared at in the wheelchair but he is so much faster in it and it’s way less painful for him. I feel bad pushing him to go outside in it but I really believe the sunlight helps. He was started on steroids today (huge dose but only for 5 days) and I really really hope they will work. They’re already helping his pain, which is definitely not what they’re for but a welcome side effect.

[unfinishedslurs]

Jonathan Byers This Is An Intervention

“You’re not happy here.”

Jonathan looks up, startled. Will stands in the doorway with his arms crossed. They’re alone in the house, El hanging out with Max and their mom on a date with Hopper. They had to practically shove her out the door before she’d leave, rambling a list of phone numbers and where to find them, as well as reminding them where the leftovers were. 

“We know, Mom,” he and Will had chorused, and permitted her to pull them down for one last kiss on the cheek before closing the door on her. Hopper just watched in amusement. 

He and Will had eaten dinner before separating to work on their projects, Will with a dnd campaign idea and Jonathan cleaning his camera out. It has more dust than it should, having been sitting in his closet unused for too long. It makes something in him ache, but he can’t make himself pick it up again. There’s something blocking him. 

“What?” 

“You’re not happy here,” Will repeats. “In Hawkins.”

“It’s Hawkins,” he points out. Being unhappy is a given. He’s always known it sucks here, from the way people treated his mom to the rumors that always flew around when he made his way through the halls. The way they’ve treated Will. He hated this town long before interdimensional monsters factored in. 

Will’s frown gets deeper. “I’m happy,” he points out. “Mom’s happy. El and Hopper are happy. We actually have friends here.”

“I have friends,” Jonathan protests, slightly offended. He and Argyle call multiple times a week. He and Nancy are still good friends, and Steve and Robin are slowly growing on him. In a surprising turn of events, Eddie is the person his age he talks to the least, but it makes sense when he thinks about it. Eddie’s brand of freak has always been loud and dramatic, half relying on shock value. Jonathan prefers the quiet. 

“When was the last time you actually hung out with someone that wasn’t me?”

Is that what this is about? Something in his heart sinks at the idea that Will doesn’t think he’s enough. “I like hanging out with you. You’re the coolest person I know,” he says, shifting over and patting the bed next to him. 

Will sits down with a huff that sounds very fifteen-year-old of him. He’s glad he’s getting to be a kid. “You’re not listening to me,” he complains. 

“Then what are you trying to say?”

Will won’t meet his eye, suddenly nervous. “Everyone your age here is leaving,” he says quietly. “Nancy is going to Emerson soon, Steve and Robin are going to Chicago, and Eddie…uh, I don’t know his plans, exactly, he might be going with them. He’s not staying here, anyway. And Argyle is on the other side of the country. So all the people you’re friends with are leaving.”

“They are,” he agrees, laying what he hopes is a soothing hand on Will’s shoulder, “but you know I’m not leaving you, right? I’m not leaving you and Mom.”

Will squeezes his eyes shut. “Maybe you should.”

It feels like ice water being poured over his head. 

Something in his stomach twists uncomfortably at the idea of calling Hopper his dad. He doesn’t know if he’s ever going to. He doesn’t even know if Hopper would want him to. But “dad” is always a word he’s associated with bruises and yelling, the stink of whiskey and a gun in his small, shaking hands. Jim Hopper, with his gruff, fumbling way affection and sweet smiles at his daughter will never fit his version of the word. 

“You’re not my dad,” Will says. “You’re my older brother, you should be my brother. You should be moving away and going to college and living your life! You shouldn’t be stuck here because of me.” He seems near tears now, and Jonathan flounders. He’s always been pretty good at making Will feel better, but now it’s different. Now it’s him making his little brother upset.

Will takes a deep, stabilizing breath.

“You’re not my dad,” he says again. “You shouldn’t have to be my dad.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” he says weakly.

“You’re doing a better job than he ever did.”

“Okay, then how should we start?”

“You could tell me why we’re always running out of tylenol.”

He didn’t even realize anyone noticed that. He’s been replacing it before it was even empty.

The words stick in his throat, reluctant to come out. But he promised. He promised he’d tell him, and he hates to break a promise to Will.

“It’s my back,” he admits. “My boss hit me with a chair, and it hurts all the time now. I used to smoke it away, but…”

He smoked a little too much. He was too reliant on it. He was being neglectful. The reasons stay on the tip of his tongue, unable to admit his shortcomings. 

Unfortunately, Will takes it another way. “You stopped because of me.”

“No!” 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Or Mom? We can go to the doctor now, we have insurance.”

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you go? Why can’t you just take care of yourself?”

“It’s just a little back pain,” he defends, “it’s not a big deal.”

It’s really not. It’s practically nothing compared to what some of their friends ended up with. Will has respiratory problems, Eddie uses a cane now, Max is in a wheelchair and her eyes might never work again. Not to mention Steve’s mix of migraines, glasses, hearing loss, and scars he’s accumulated over the years that put Jonathan’s to shame. His issues pale in comparison.

“It is when you take as many painkillers as you do! You’re going to eat holes in your stomach.”

“If I get an ulcer, it’ll be because I know there’s another world out there full of things that want to kill us,” he says, poking Will in the stomach. He giggles, and then looks mad about it. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you actually happy. I feel like it’s my fault.”

What does he say to that? It can’t be your fault, because I don’t remember the last time I was happy like that? I felt like this long before you went missing? Anything he says will make him worry more. 

“It’s not your fault,” he finally settles on. 

“But if I hadn’t disappeared—“

“I would still feel like this,” he says, because he has to. He can’t stand the idea of Will thinking it’s his fault when the truth is that something has been wrong with Jonathan for a long, long time. “It’s not because of the Upside-Down, bud. It’s not something you can fix. I’m pretty sure I’m just…like this.”

He’s had moments of happiness, obviously. Sometimes he’ll get days, or even weeks, where he genuinely looks forward to the future. When he was in California with Argyle, he felt even better. But eventually, the heaviness in his chest always comes back. It’s just something he knows how to live with now. 

Will sits up, glaring at him. “That’s bullshit!”

“It’s just how it is.”

He squares his shoulders, a telltale sign that Jonathan isn’t going to like whatever he says next. “Mom and I think you should see a therapist.”

Jonathan really doesn’t like that. “You’ve been talking to Mom about this?”

“She’s worried about you!”

“She shouldn’t be!” He’s almost offended. He’s been taking care of himself for years. He was taking care of her for years. “I’m fine! I know how to live with it!” 

“I haven’t seen you smile for real in two months!”

“I’m fine!” He snaps again, and immediately regrets it. Will’s lower lip trembles. 

“You’re not fine,” he says. “You’re not. Don’t lie to me, Jonathan. You just said you weren’t going to lie to me.”

[painsandconfusion]

As someone who has been manhandled still and had hydrogen peroxide poured on their open cuts, you should 112% do that to your ocs. It's fun. They'll love it.

[bunnihearted]

i hate when i try to research suicide methods that are as painless as possible, but most of the results are like "there's help to get". no there isnt!!!! stop lying ._.

[unorganisedalienrubbish]

Whump fun fact!

(Again, from experience. Will differ for each person. Not a medical professional)

Scar tissue will HURT even after everything appears fully healed. Especially if the wound was deep. Even if the scar doesn’t inhibit mobility, gentle pressure or movement will make it ache. This can last from a few weeks, to years (I know some people who’s scars haven’t stopped aching decades after the incident) it could be lifelong depending on the injury (this only concerns physical pains not the added mental baggage)

So when writing characters in their recovery arc, even years down the line. Their scars may still pain them (they will never be the same as they were before, even fully healed. ‘Ownership’ fans, run with this as you like)

So, keys pressing into the hips and thighs when going about on errands (like house keys in the front pocket). Backpacks/satchels/bags pressing on shoulders. Belts or other restrictive types of clothing. (I have a friend that gets violently nauseous when even lightly brushing a patch of scar tissue)

The (physical) pain will last for years. Even after everything is healed. Nothing can really be done for it. Even if there is no damage to muscles or anything serious, just skin-damage; it is likely to prevent your character from moving properly, especially if the area covered is extensive (ie whip/lashes accros the back)

Another area for concern is joints, or areas where the skin moves a lot. So: knees, elbows, hips, shoulders, (ankles sometimes but that’s usually due to ligament damage) and definitely hands. Scar tissue lacks the elasticity of normal skin. So bending a joint against the scar tissue will make it ache (or make the skin feel tight and raw, depending on how fresh it is).

Pressure on scar tissue can also affect sleeping. Obviously, side sleepers will have trouble with pressure on their hip, thigh, ribs and shoulder. Back sleepers: back, butt, heels. Front sleepers: chest, shoulders, neck, front of pelvis)

That’s all I can think of for now, hope this helps! Happy hurting!

[phantomoftheorpheum]

Chappell's Tonight Show performance is so stunning both visually and musically that I want to gif it immediately, and I don't even do real people gifs unless they're specifically requested, but idc I'd make an exception for her, but I have to go bed now or I will not make it through my day tomorrow. ugh.

[slugandthorn]

The coolest gender thing in the 2009 Japanese video game persona 3 100% how hard they coded shinjiro as the dead mom

[mindrottinglystupid]

A Late Medical Update!

It has been a few. Life got away from me for a hot second! I am currently staying in a hotel in the very noisy Houston Medical District because of multiple doctor's appointments tomorrow. One is early in the morning for a Rheumatologist; later that day, I have an appointment with another neuro-optimist. This one is different from the last two. They both referred me to her, so we might get answers with this one!

The last Optimologist I went to said that my cataracts weren't causing my vision problems, and neither was a vitamin deficiency. He said that the ganglion cells in the back of my eyes were in the red and yellow, so that was most likely causing my vision problems, though, like normal, he didn't know why. Hopefully, we find out soon.

We got into the Rheumatologist with much hast, which was a good surprise! When we did blood work, my ANA came back positive, and given my history they think it might be RA or lupus.

That reminds me! I bought a cane recently to help walking, and it has been a life changer. I would upload a picture, but the wifi here sucks :(

If you are thinking of getting one please do at least try and pick one up. I didn't notice how much pain my right leg was in when walking until I tried walking with my cane. It has officially become part of my personality XD

I'll post tomorrow whenever we get back from the appointments. After this, my mother, grandmother, and I are going to visit family in San Antonio, so I should have more free time to post updates then!

Remember you are valid in your pain, and you are loved and appreciated and I promise, you are heard.